Saturday, June 1, 2013

Wandering Shiva

Recently
I climbed a big mountain; big both in girth and loftiness, very big. Much happened
during this climb and much that should not have happened, but today’s story is
not about this mountain or about the climb, it’s about something else entirely.
Something that is intriguingly significant to me and even though I do see its
rationale in afterthought I am still puzzling over the incident.

Lord
Shiva is one of the primary Hindu Gods, in fact the most supreme of the
trinity. He is on one hand the destroyer and on another the procreator since
without annihilation there can’t be creation or so we believe. Shiva certainly
is someone’s figment of imagination on high testosterone and the legend is an
extraordinary saga. Of all the facts about Shiva that we are led to believe,
the one I hold closest to my heart is that He resides in the Himalaya and his
five abodes are spread across the length of the icy peaks. Therefore with that
belief, he is my only god since Himalaya is my home too and the icy peaks my
abodes. Even if He indeed exists, I doubt if He does so in the way we depict
Lord Shiva in our myths; wearing tiger skin, snake around the neck and holding
the moon in his hair locks. Yet this image is so deeply embedded in any Hindu
mind that I cannot imagine him to be any way different than this.

Memory
defies me as to its origin now, who gave it to me or where did it come from,
but for over two decades I have had in my possession a tiny Shiva statue,
measuring no more than an inch by half. It has been my inseparable companion
for all these years during all my climbs, all my voyages over land, sea or air.
No matter where I went, it went with me. It stood atop one of my ice axes while
at home. In this statue Shiva is in His benign form, smiling, all forgiving and
truly magnificent. As I went through my adventures and misadventures, repeating
my death defying and death-inviting motions, I came to regard this statue as my
guardian angel, as if Shiva Himself stayed with me to safeguard my limbs and
life. I grew bolder, crazier and reckless with this belief.

On any
climb, the statue remained inside by breast pocket, therefore remaining close
to my heart and to my pulsating life. I never parted with it and never failed
to carry it, no matter where I went. I knew it was only my belief that gave this
statue mythical power over life and death and despite all my rationality I was
fine with it. I have seen logic-defying things in the outdoors and out there I believe
in things that normally I may not. Hence it is obvious that upon this big
mountain too I had this statue right where it belonged – deep inside the breast
pocket of my climbing jacket / suit. And that’s exactly where it remained for
the duration of the expedition.

Everything
went off well and I could feel the statue against my skin through the clothes
every now and then. The climb continued as envisaged. We finally reached the summit
camp one fine windy afternoon. We had planned to start our summit push the same
evening. We were well within the death-zone. The statue, as far as I can recall
now, was very much there. After this things get fuzzy.

In the
bone chilling freeze we got ready for the summit bid, clipped on our oxygen
masks and breezed out into the gale that was blowing in from the west. After 20
hrs and a successful summit when I returned to the tent I had no recollection
about the Shiva statue. I looked for the statue in all the lower camps till the
Base Camp but the statue could not be found anywhere. I fail to understand how
could the statue fall off from the inside pocket of my down climbing suit,
since the pocket was well zipped off. I hadn’t fallen any place. The statue could
not have disappeared, yet it had, as if it never existed. I looked everywhere except
of course retracing my path to the summit once more.

So
the question is why did Shiva decide to take a hike upon this mountain!

Either
he was tired of me or of returning to the city life again and again or he
decided to stay back into the Himalaya this time and what better place to go
roaming than the highest Himalayan arena. His main abode of Sri Kailash isn’t
too far as well. By now He must be with his friends and overlooking the limpid
blue waters of Mansarovar, relating the adventures he had shared over the last
20 years in my company. So I wish him luck and accept that He is gone.

Does
that mean I would go get another statue of Shiva or that my guardian is no more
with me; certainly not! Like I said, it was always a question of my belief and
the strength came from inside me into the statue and not vice versa so now I don’t
need a statue anymore. 20 year long belief can pretty much conjure things out
of thin air.

3 comments:

I think he got sick of humanity per say! And of course, what better place to disappear in, then his true home.Faith and belief without a doubt is the greatest strength in the world.Shiva has and will always be with you.Om Namoh Shivaya!hugs and xxooxx

About Me

As a child, i had three wishes: to be a submariner (i did), to be a published author (i did, but won't rest till the Nobel and Booker rest on my mantle) and to be a mountaineer (still trying to fulfill this one).I am otherwise a globe trotting thrill seeker and have climbed the seven summits and skied to both the poles and then some.

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BLOG FOR CLIMBING AND IMPOSSIBLE DREAMS

There is a drama and beauty to be found in the world’s most hard to reach places that far exceed the intensity we experience in our normal everyday lives. Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned from the fact that this pure happiness is usually only achieved after suffering some great hardships. In this mechanistic modern world, our primordial instincts for survival are often left untested, driving us to seek out those places where life is still hard.